Crossfire
by Kari Kurofai
Summary: For the Sabriel Tumblr. The Trickster takes a liking to the Winchesters from the moment he meets them, and decides it might not be so bad to just tag along for the ride, whether they like it or not.
1. Chapter 1

**Crossfire Part 1**

**For the Sabriel Tumblr prompt **

**Either an AU or re-telling of previous seasons where Gabriel comes into play far earlier - back when they still think he's the Trickster. Bonus points if Castiel is somehow brought into the party. Bonus points if mass amounts of angst ensue and everyone is thick-headed and stubborn. **

**And what was originally meant to be a oneshot turned into a two-parter which mutated into a three-parter so . . . Yup.**

It happened when Sam least expected it. That's kind of how most things tended to happen to him and his brother, really. One second he was laying back on the latest dingy motel mattress, a book balanced against his knees as he read, and the next there was a pair of honey-gold eyes staring down at him and a red lollipop being pointed at his nose.

"You know what, I like you."

Sam let out a very unmanly squeal of surprise, scrambling back only to end up in a messy tangle of blankets on his back across the floor. He inhaled sharply as he was met with golden eyes again, the Trickster frowning down at him from where he sat on the bed. "Wha-" Sam stared, enable to fully articulate the thousands of questions springing to mind.

The Trickster smirked then and popped the red lollipop into his mouth, "I like you," He repeated. "You and your brother, you're interesting." He paused, rolling the sucker around in his mouth thoughtfully, "It might be kinda fun to stick around."

Sam stared at him, mouth hanging open, for a very long moment before he finally rediscovered what words were. "We _killed_ you!" he exclaimed, because that was really the most shocking part of this whole affair. He could have sworn that he'd seen Dean stab a stake right through the Trickster's heart less than three days ago.

Raising an eyebrow the Trickster pointed his sticky lollipop at Sam again, "Tried to," he corrected. "I've been around for longer than you can even begin to comprehend, kiddo. If it was that easy to kill me I would have been dead long ago."

Mouth still hanging open slightly, Sam continued to stare, "B-" No, that wasn't right. "Why-" No, that's not it either. "Huh?" was what he finally settled for, because really, he couldn't think of anything else.

"I thought you were the smart one," the Trickster huffed, crossing his arms. He leaned down and jabbed Sam in the chin with his saliva covered sucker, "I like you." Jab jab. "And I think I'll stick around," Another sticky jab. "And also, I'm not dead," an especially hard jab that left a streak of cherry red across Sam's chin. "Anymore stupid questions, gigantor?"

Sam shook his head.

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Dean was furious. Apparently working with the monsters they hunted was a big "NO" in the unwritten rulebook of hunters. Sam, personally, didn't see much of a problem with it.

"He said he'd help us," He argued the next night while the Trickster was out on one of his many candy runs. "We can use all the help we can get, Dean."

Dean stared him down, decision unwavering in the face of the claims Sam made, "He kills people, Sam."

"He said he wouldn't as long as he was with us," Sam protested, remembering that he had made these same accusations only the day before.

"And you think that he won't still hurt people?" Dean snorted, "Even if he doesn't kill them, he still wrecks havoc. He's a _Trickster_, Sammy!"

"Maybe those people deserve it!" Sam shot back. Dean blinked at him, startled at the outburst. "Dean," Sam let out a breath, trying to calm himself, "He teaches people lessons, people who do bad things and get away with it. How is that any different from us? Any different from comic book heroes kids look up to?"

As if on cue the door swung open at that moment, revealing the man in discussion holding a grocery bag stuffed with candy. "Yeah, Dean-o, I'm Batman," The Trickster laughed as he closed the door behind him.

Dean narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips, "You won't kill anyone?"

"Nope," the Trickster said.

"And you'll help us?"

"Yup," He took a licorice out of the bag and bit off the end.

Dean's eyebrows furrowned together, "Fine. But if you even set one toe out of line, you're dead."

"You can try," The Trickster sang, flopping back down onto Sam's bed, the candy from his bag spilling out onto his chest and the mattress in turn.

The older Winchester made a frustrated noise before turning away. Sam rolled his eyes and sat down next to the Trickster, snatching up a package of Rollos, "So then, looks like you get to stay," he remarked.

The Trickster chuckled, "So I do. I expected a bit more of a fuss."

"Dean's just being a stick in the mud. He said before that he likes your style, so he'll come around."

"And you?" The Trickster propped himself up on one elbow to look at him.

Sam looked away almost instantly and started to fiddle with the Rollos in his lap, "I . . . I'd like to believe that not all monsters are evil . . ." He whispered, biting his lip. Sam shook his head, opening the candy and popping a piece in his mouth before he glanced back at the Trickster again, "So, you have a name, right? It seems kinda rude to just keep calling you Trickster."

For a moment, Sam could have sworn he saw a flash of uncertainty in the Trickster's eyes before he answered, "Loki. You can call me Loki."

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They continued hunting as usual. Dean made sure to take time to whine about various candies he would find around the motel rooms, or stuck to the leather of the Impala, but he admitted that Loki made a great pool hustler when they needed cash. Sam had the sneaking suspicion that the Trickster was cheating. Really, he wouldn't have been surprised. Common ghost cases and small demon hunts came and went that Loki barely even bothered to bat an eye at. Sometimes, if he felt like it, he'd "play detective" as he called it, with them when they questioned people. But he never went with for the actual salt and burn or the exorcism. If they had to do the later nearby, Loki tended to make himself scarce. Sam didn't question it. Dean didn't care.

And then there was San Francisco. Dean hadn't hunted a werewolf in years, and he was positively giddy to have such a challenge again. He didn't expect it to be Madison. He didn't expect them to fail when they attempted to cure her. He didn't expect Sam to like her so much.

They left town as soon as the final deed had been done, and for once, the car was silent. Dean didn't blast his music, Sam didn't comment on the "interesting" scenery, and Loki didn't crack any stupid jokes. The Trickster stared down at his hands for the entire ride, clenching and unclenching his fingers. Every once in awhile Dean caught him looking up at Sam, an unreadable expression on his face. It made Dean seethe with anger inside.

Sam went into that night's motel first, and Dean got the opportunity he wanted to grab Loki by the collar of his t-shirt and slam him into a wall. Hard.

"You _knew_ killing the sire werewolf wouldn't work, _didn't you_," Dean spat. They'd ran the idea past him when they'd found it in their father's journal.

"Yes," Loki whispered.

Dean snarled, utterly furious, "Then why didn't you tell us!"

Loki's golden eyes narrowed challengingly, "Because it was something you needed to see!" he hissed. "You especially, Dean. You need to understand, here and now, that sometimes . . . Sometimes people can't help what they are! And yet they can still come back to themselves enough to see what is right and what is wrong."

Dean stiffened, "This is about Sam."

"Hasn't it always been?" Loki said through gritted teeth.

Dean growled under his breath, releasing his grip on the Trickster and watching him slump against the wall. "I thought your lessons were about just desserts."

"They're about judgment," Loki corrected darkly, "And correction." He blinked, staring down at his hands, "Sometimes . . . Even though I know it's useless, I can't help but try to untangle but can't be undone."

"What does that even mean?"

Loki laughed, slow and humorless, "I don't even know half the time." He glanced up then, gaze wavering in a way that never met Dean's head on for more than a heartbeat, "Just . . . Remember that Sam is your brother, no matter what. Don't ever forget that. Ever."

"Of course," Dean raised an eyebrow, confused. A smile lit Loki's face then, one of the many that unnerved Dean to no end, and the Hunter take a step back. "I'll um . . . I'll go get some pie or something."

"Bring back chocolate cream for me, Dean-o!" The Trickster called after him brightly. Dean just flipped him off in response. When the steady rumble of the Impala had faded into the distance he pushed open the door to the motel ever so slowly.

Sam was laying facedown on one of the beds, pillow smashed into his face and where he held it and his feet hanging off the end. Loki sighed and came to stand at the edge of the bed before crouching down and beginning to work off Sam's shoes and placing them at the foot of the bed. Sam turned his head to the side and cast him a glance, but otherwise didn't complain. When the pagan god had finished he pressed his face back into the pillow again with a groan.

"You're going to suffocate like that," Loki pointed out calmly, to which Sam just muttered something unintelligible into the pillow. The Trickster shrugged and sat on the other bed facing the hunter and leaned back on his hands, waiting.

"What if I'm like Madison," Sam said suddenly, barely lifting his head from the pillow.

Loki tilted his head to the side, "A werewolf? Well unless you had very kinky sex, Sammy, I really doubt it."

Sam huffed into the pillow, "No. I mean . . . What if I'm a monster." He shivered and looked away, thus missing the way Loki's eyes widened.

"Sam . . ."

"I'm serious!" Sam snapped, sitting up and facing Loki. "Dean doesn't think I can be, but what if I am?" He looked at his hands and narrowed his eyes, "I've moved objects with my mind, Loki. I've seen people die in my dreams. _I_ don't even know what I'm capable of fully. What if what I really am is just bubbling under the surface and one day I just . . . What if I just snap, and that's it. There's probably some sort of trigger, or switch that will one day just flip and that will be it." He looked up at the Trickster helplessly, "What am I supposed to do then? Dean already proved he can't stop me twice this year alone. What am I supposed to do if there's no one to stop me?"

Loki frowned and stood, moving to stand in front of Sam before he crouched at his feet, "You're not a monster, Sammy. I can tell you that right now."

"You don't know that," Sam whispered, his voice breaking.

A sigh escaped the Trickster and he bent his head for a moment before looking back up at the Hunter, "What exactly is it you're asking of me, Sam?"

"Stop me," Sam pleaded as he fisted his hands in the sleeves of Loki's shirt. "I need someone who will stop me if I . . . If I turn into something I'm not right now."

Loki's eyebrows furrowed together but he nodded, "All right."

Dean chose that moment to walk in, greeted with the sight of Sam sitting on the edge of the bed and the Trickster kneeling in front of him. "I brought pie-aaaaahhh! What- No. I'm just going to go out and come back in and when I get back, I will not be seeing this. Okay!"

"Dean! This is not what it looks like!"

Loki just laughed.

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The hunts were small and for the most part, simple after that. Loki managed to work his way up to be some sort of Hollywood big-wig in a matter of minutes when they were trying to figure out what was going down on the Hell Hazers set, and generally made their lives as Pas a living hell. On purpose. And he refused to play prisoner when they had a case in that jail, and decided that playing prison guard was much more fun, especially as he got to make a good many more buttsex jokes to Dean, quite a few of which flew right over his head and thus ended in just him and Sam laughing at the older Winchester's expense. When Dean got caught by the Djin, it was Loki who kept Sam from completely freaking out so that they could track down the idiot before the life got sucked completely out of him.

It had all been too easy, really. Too much like the everyday Winchester life. That's what should have tipped them off that shit was about to get real sooner rather than later.

"Hey, see if they've got any pie."

"Yeah, Sammy, chocolate pie!" Loki piped up from where he was sprawled across the back seat.

"Dude that is not real pie," Dean said, twisting in his seat to glare at him.

"Only to you, big boy," Loki smirked.

Dean rolled his eyes and looked back at a very exasperated faced Sam who was still standing with the side door open, waiting for the ridiculous requests to finish. "Bring me some pie!" Sam rolled his eyes and slammed the door. Dean just shrugged and cracked the music up with a hum of, "I love me some pie," while ignoring the way Loki put his hands over his ears.

The radio sound fizzed out for a second and Dean cast it a look, his eyes narrowing as the music continued to flicker in and out. Loki sat up in the back, his eyes going from the radio to the restaurant as Dean tapped the dashboard, trying to get the music to play.

"Dean!" Dean's eyes followed his as Loki fumbled with the car door and practically fell out onto the gravel road. The little diner, still lit, was suddenly empty.

"Shit," Dean cursed, scrambling out of the car and grabbing Loki under the arm as he made a beeline for the door to the place.

Inside, the music still played on, slow and tedious as though nothing had happened, contrary to the dead bodies that littered the place. Dean froze at the sight while Loki dashed across the short length of the diner, touching various objects as he went, his gaze frantic. "Where is he?" He yelled at Dean as he turned to make his way back across the diner.

"Sam?" Dean called as he pulled his gun from his pocket, motioning for Loki to step aside as he made for the back door. "Sam?" he called again, out into the rain. But no one answered.

"How . . ." Loki whispered behind him as he reached to grab onto the back of Dean's jacket, his hands shaking, "I should have felt them coming. How could anything get past me?"

Dean turned, ignoring the way Loki clung to the back of his coat. He glanced at his fingers as he pulled away from the door, frowning at the sulfur clinging to them, Loki's words and the clear evidence now clicking into place. He rushed to the front door again.

"Sammy? Sam?"

Loki had let go of his jacket once they were outside, and was standing a ways behind as Dean crossed the length of the parking lot and the road in a few strides.

"Sammy? SAM?"

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"Where is he?" Dean demanded, slamming the Trickster into hood of the Impala. They were parked on the side of the road waiting for Bobby to meet them, the rain still falling as it had the night before.

"I've tried looking," Loki hissed, scrabbling at his wrists, "Don't you think I've tried! I can't find him! Usually I can snap my fingers and that would be that, but whatever has him doesn't want him to be found!" He squirmed, "So will you let go? I'm not standing around uselessly blaming you, am I?"

Dean released him and stepped back, his shoulders slumping, "Then what am I supposed to do?"

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While Dean wasn't Loki's favorite Winchester, he was eternally grateful when Dean caught him by the arm before he tripped face first into Ash's, well, ashen body. And Dean didn't complain when he clung to the Hunter's arm, feeling sick to his stomach. "Even I don't do things this horrible," he whispered, gazing around at the wreckage of the roadhouse. "I've tricked people into dying because of their own stupidity and ignorance. They always had a chance to turn back. This is just . . ."

"This is what real evil is like," Bobby muttered, looking up at the smoke covered sky.

He was still holding Dean's arm, trying to keep his lunch of red vines and coke down when Dead had put his hand to his forehead, nearly collapsing on top of the pagan god as he doubled over in pain. Only the Impala and Loki kept him standing in the end.

"That was about as fun as getting kicked in the jewels," Dean remarked, leaning heavily against the car while Loki and Bobby hovered over him.

"What did you see?" they asked in unison, which of course just resulted in them glaring at each other while Dean rolled his eyes.

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"I don't need a gun, Dean," Loki protested as Dean shoved a sawed off into his hands. He snapped his fingers and it reappeared back in the trunk where it had been a moment before.

Dean growled in annoyance, picking it up once again and thrusting it at the Trickster, "I don't have time to save your ass if things get hairy, you moron! Just take it!"

"I don't need saving!" Loki shot back, "Just worry about your brother!"

Dean narrowed his eyes, "Take the gun, or I will shoot you with it."

Loki took the gun.

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They let their guards down, all four of them. Dean dropped his gun to his side the second he saw Sam, as did Bobby. Loki just dropped his gun period, he was really not a fan. They should have known better.

"Sam!" Loki screamed, trying to snap himself forward to stop the camouflage uniform clad man charging at the younger Winchester from behind. But nothing happened.

"Sam, look out!" Dean yelled, already breaking into a run while Loki tried to snap again, and failing once more. "No!" Dean caught Sam as he fell, stabbed in the back, and Loki gave up on trying to magic his way anywhere and followed, coming to stand behind Dean while Bobby chased after the man who darted away as quick as he had come.

"Sam! Oh, Sam. Sam. Hey! Hey come here, let me look at ya'." Loki swallowed as he saw Dean pull his hand from Sam's back, stained red with blood. "Oh, hey, okay, look at me. It's not even that bad. It's not even that bad, all right? Sammy? Sam!" Dean turned to the Trickster then, "Do something! You can do something , can't you!"

Loki raised his hand, snapping his fingers again, and again and again to no avail. "I . . ." He swallowed, "I don't know what's wrong. I can't . . ."

Dean let out a frustrated noise and turned back to his brother, "Hey, listen to me. We're gonna patch you up, okay? You're gonna be good as new." Loki put his hand to his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut and lowering his hand to his side, still feebly snapping. "Huh? I'm gonna take care of you. I'm gonna take care of you." Snap. Snap. Snap. "I got ya'. That's my job, right? Looking after my pain-in-the-ass little brother?" Snap. Snap. "Sam? Sam? Sam? Sammy?" Snap.

Loki fell to his knees in the mud, watching as Dean started to chant, "No." over and over again as if that would somehow make things better. "No . . . No, no, no, no, no, no." Dean brought Sam to him, holding his all too limp body close. "No . . . Oh . . . God . . . Sam!"

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Loki didn't look up when Bobby offered him the bucket of chicken Dean didn't touch. He didn't look up when Bobby and Dean started to argue.

"I just don't think you should be alone is all."

"I'm stuck with that idiot, aren't I?" Dean snapped, gesturing to where Loki was leaning against the wall, his chin against his collar as he stared pointedly at the floor.

He didn't even look up when Dean admitted he didn't even care if the world ended there and then. He flinched away at the words though, dread coursing through him. And he didn't look up when Dean shoved Bobby away and towards to door, screaming, "Go!" after him.

He learned a heartbeat later why Dean didn't do the same to him.

Dean slammed him into the wall he'd been leaning against. An event that seemed to happen a lot between them. "Fix him!"

Loki just stared, "I can't bring back the dead, Dean."

"Yes you can, I know you can!" Dean twisted his fingers into the Trickster's collar as if meaning to choke him.

"I can't!"

Dean released him, stepping back, "Then you can get out."

"Dean-"

"Get out!"

Loki narrowed his eyes, "You can't make me leave. I _chose_ to be here, and I am not leaving now." He watched warily as Dean paced around him towards the door, "Dean, don't."

"Don't what."

"You're going to do something you will regret," Loki said quietly.

Dean didn't look at him as he opened the door, "I will _never_ regret anything I do for Sam." He walked out, the door slamming behind him, and Loki couldn't bring himself to stop him.

Slowly, he made his way to the dusty mattress Sam's body lay on, pulling up a chair beside it. "So this is how it begins, isn't it," he whispered. The Trickster raised a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, "I thought by helping I could stop it somehow But Sammy I . . . I can't go and get you. I can't go back to Heaven, even for that that." He laughed, the sound harsh and ragged, "Not even for you. I'm such a coward, Sammy. I'm such a coward."

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He was still sitting in the same spot hours later when Sam's eyes flickered open. His head was in his hands, his elbows on his knees, and he didn't notice until Sam shifted and muttered, "Why am I on a smelly mattress?"

Loki blinked, startled, and looked up as Sam struggled to a sitting position, "Sam?"

"Loki," Sam smirked, the smile falling when he took in the look on the Trickster's face, "What happened?"

The pagan god inhaled, unsure of what Dean wanted to tell the kid, "Oh, nothing much," he said as lightly as he could, though he could hear his voice wavering, "Just this and that."

"You've been crying," Sam said flatly, wincing as he tried to sit up farther.

"I-I have not!" Loki tried to protest, "I'm just kinda tired. There have been no tears here, none. Nada. zip." He stopped when Sam raised an eyebrow at him and swallowed before standing up and wrapping his arms around the Hunter's shoulders, ignoring his whine of protest and the whispered, "Ouch."

"I'm just . . . I'm just really glad you're awake, Sammy. Really glad."

Dean burst in when he was reluctantly helping Sam hike up his shirt to see the puckered fresh scar on his back, making the count two for nil on times Dean had walked into a situation between them that was not what it looked like. Though he did admit, it looked a little odd with Sam peering over his shoulder at the mirror and Loki standing at his front, arms around him as he held his shirt up in the back.

Dean let it go this time though, too relieved to see his brother standing to kick Loki's butt.

RANDOM AUTHOR RAMBLE

Why is this turning out so loooonnnggg! It's like I keep finding places Gabriel would fit in perfectly as I go over each episode between 2.15 and 5.08. DAMNIT. I plan it to be three parts though. Next part will be (mostly?) season 3 coverage, and part 3 will be 4 and 5. It's basically just like the show goes, except with more Sassy Angel Commentary and Antics here and there. And Sabriel fluff and angst of course. Things are going to get a little rough and tumble next time.


	2. Chapter 2

**Crossfire Part 2**

The morning after they, by some God given miracle, managed to kill Azazel, Sam slammed Loki into a wall.

Really, he should have seen it coming. Winchesters seemed to have an affinity for slamming poor innocent Tricksters into just as innocent walls. "Well, well, Sammy," he cooed after his head hit the plaster in a not so comfortable way, "I see your monthly UST has come to a head. What can I do for you."

Sam narrowed his eyes, clearly not amused, "Don't fuck with me today, Loki," he growled. "You knew Dean sold his soul, didn't you."

"I suspected," Loki shrugged against the wall. "After all there's not many things that can bring back the dead."

"You _let _him."

Ah, so that was it. Loki's smile twisted then, turning cruel and ugly, "If that's what you want to think, go ahead. I see you need someone to blame. Fine." He tilted his head back, letting it thunk against the wall invitingly, "Take it out on me, if you wish."

Sam dropped him almost instantly. "That's not what I- why would- No-" He faltered in an effort to find the words as he took a hurried step back.

Loki laughed and slid down until he was sitting against the wall he'd been just previously held against and rested his elbows on his knees. "I don't care if you blame me, Sam. But I already told you, I _suspected_. It's not unknown for you Winchesters to sell your souls for family, and when he stormed off, for a moment I almost followed him." He sighed when Sam's gaze instantly darkened, "But really, Sammy, what could I have done? He'd already lashed out at Bobby, and me as well. It would take everything I have to hold him back from doing what he did in the state he was in. And he never would have stopped, even if I kept him restrained for _years_, Sam. He would always be searching for a way to save you."

"But-" Sam started. Loki raised a hand to quiet him before he could say any more however.

"But what, Sam? I could have wiped all the crossroads off the face of the planet? He would have found some other way." He smiled, just a little sadly, as Sam sat on the edge of the latest musty motel bed, at a loss for words. "Don't blame him either, okay? He did it because he loves you. There should be no punishment for love."

Sam paused at this, "You've never . . ." He stopped, uncertain, "You punish people all the time. You can't possibly tell me there hasn't been a day when you didn't punish someone for love."

Loki's eyes flashed and he stood, surprisingly able to stand over Sam from where the Hunter sat on the bed, despite his stature, "What crimes I passed judgment on were never as pretty as love, Sam. Some disguised themselves as, like fathers who claimed to molest their children out of love," he sneered when Sam flinched. "Or men who hid in the shadows and said they loved a woman, quite literally, to _death_. Maybe you're asking about those so consumed by lust they called it love, even when the one they lusted after was broken and bleeding on the floor." He leaned down, "Is that what you're wondering, Sam? Because yes, I punished each and every one of those people. But _never_ did I lay a hand on anyone who really, and truly, cares for another. Ever."

"I . . . I'm sorry," Sam whispered.

The Trickster turned away from him, "Don't ask me again. I would think, that after the few months I've spent with you and your brother, you'd trust me more." He lifted his hand, staring at it hard with golden eyes, "I don't hurt people because I find it fun, Sam, though yes, sometimes it brings me a great deal of amusement to see them get what they deserve after the time I spend watching them wrong others as they do. I punish people because it is my _job_."

Sam blinked and raised his eyes to him, "Your . . . Job?"

"Hunting is your job, yes?" Loki asked, glancing at Sam over his shoulder. "You don't get paid for it, but you do it anyways because you feel it is your duty to do so, to protect the people that can not protect themselves."

"Yeah, of course."

"And, by those same terms, Judgment is my job. Do you understand? I won't say that sometimes I don't get petty, or bored, and lay out slightly unnecessary punishments for the simplest of crimes, but I would never raise a hand against something like what your brother did for you. Do you understand? It is not my place, and though it was wrong of him it was done with good intentions at the heart of it."

Sam nodded vigorously as if he was afraid the Trickster would lash out at him as he himself had done just moments before. "Can I ask you something? Not," he shook his head, "About your, uh, job, exactly. About Dean."

Here, Loki laughed in surprise, "Ask away kiddo, but I know less about your bull-headed brother than you do."

Fiddling with his hands, Sam asked, "Can you . . . Do you know of a way to get him out of the deal?"

Loki frowned, "The realms of Hell are not ones I tend, or like, to tread, bucko. I can say that there are ways, but I can not say what they are."

"But we can find them, then, right?" Sam asked, not looking put off from his plans in the slightest.

"I guess so . . ."

"And you'll help me?"

"I walked right into that one, didn't I."

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It was a week later when they were tracking an outbreak of, god forbid, sins, that Sam asked.

"You said your job is judgment," he said. The younger Winchester barely looked up from the bible he had open on his lap in the midst of looking for clues about what they were fighting. Loki tensed instantly.

"Yeah, that's what I said," he smiled, twirling a blue lollipop in between his fingers. "Did you have a question about it?"

"It's just . . ." Sam drew off and raised his eyes uncertainly, clearly not wanting another lecture on what Loki did or didn't do with his power. "When you said all that last week, and now reading this," he lifted up the worn motel bible hesitantly, "It reminds me of something. Just a little."

Loki inhaled, "Oh?"

"Judgments," Sam clarified, "was just something I always associated with God-"

"Well I am a god," Loki laughed.

"- and angels," Sam finished.

Instantly a guarded look crossed Loki's face, one which Sam couldn't be entirely sure he saw as it vanished as quickly as it had appeared. "What do you want to know about angels, Sam?"

"They're real, then?" Sam's face lit up.

"If they are they are very, very far from what you imagine them to be," Loki jerked a thumb towards the book in Sam's lap, "Or what that thing pretends they are. That-" He narrowed his eyes at the bible, "Is a book of lies."

Sam gaped, "Wha-"

"The proof is in what we're hunting, Sammy," Loki smirked, "Can't you see that? The book claims that the seven sins are supposed to be manifestations of faults inside of people. And people are creations of god. All I see are demons here, hellspawn. There is no humanity in them, and little in what they make people do."

"But people can still sin," Sam pointed out, "Without their help."

"There are few who would go to the extremes we've seen the people touched by these demons go to," Loki countered.

Sam looked down at the bible, considering it, "That's just one thing of many."

Loki laughed, though the sound itself was far from happy, "And do you really think that, if there is a god, he actually cares what anyone down here does as that book claims? If so, why are we here," he gestured around the room, "Why are we saving people? Why should it be us that step between the monsters and the innocent? Why are there monsters at all? Why-" He stopped, his voice cracking, "Won't He stop any of this? Is that so hard?"

Sam bit his lip, "And . . . And angels?"

"As heartless as their Father, I suppose," Loki gritted out. "At least most of them. I won't say I've never seen remarkable things in the many, many years I've been here. But they are few and far between. Probably because there are few who care."

"And you?"

Loki twisted where he sat, blue sucker falling from his hand to stick to the shaggy motel carpet with a wet plop, "W-what?"

"Do you care?"

"Whether I care or not matters very little, Sam," Loki said breathlessly. "I am nothing but a little remembered pagan god."

Sam's eyes glazed over then, "I pray, you know," he said softly.

Slowly, Loki nodded, "I know."

"So then, if God doesn't care and neither do his angels, who am I praying to?"

The Trickster forced a smile, "They are few and far between, but somewhere out there, there are some who will listen. Somewhere, somehow, someone heard you. I'm sure of it."

Sam ducked his head and flipped a page in the bible, a small smile tickling the corners of his mouth.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

Somehow, life went on. It always seemed to, with the Winchesters, even in the face of something as dire as Dean's quickly passing last year as one of the living.

Loki managed to convince Sam to crawl into the bounce house with him when they more or less crashed the party of that girl Dean had once had a fling with. Really, Loki could not be bothered to remember her name, though he did high-five Dean when he found out about the yoga instructor bit. He had to admit that he had glared at the back of her head quite a bit when she wasn't looking as well, for which Sam had smacked him on the head when they were wrecking havoc on the bounce house.

"Boring holes in the back of her head with your eyes isn't going to make Dean like her any less," Sam warned him as he jumped in the bounce house, which in turn caused Loki to be momentarily distracted by the younger Winchester's nice tight ass in motion.

"No," he agreed, moving his eyes back up to a more acceptable place for staring, AKA, at the back of Lisa's head. Again. "But it makes me feel better."

Sam paused mid jump and let himself fall onto the bottom of the inflatable, "What are you- oh god forbid - you're not jealous of her are you?"

Loki turned to face him with an annoyed look, "I wouldn't be jealous of anything Dean Winchester drags home even if his body was the fucking gateway to Heaven, Sam." He grinned when Sam shuddered at the mental image _that_ created. "No, I just . . ." He glanced in the direction where Dean and Lisa were talking and narrowed his eyes again, "There's something a bit off between them. It makes me uneasy." He shrugged when Sam gave him a bemused look, "I can't explain it, really. It reminds me of idiots who get ideas in their heads of what an ideal perfect world is like, and then when they actually have it it all falls apart because they realize they just wanted the stereotypical."

"Like, um, Animal Farm?" Sam supplied blankly.

Loki raised an eyebrow and smiled, amused, "Not exactly but I guess that's sort of right. Like you create this image of yourself and what you are supposed to be according to society, and then you realize that it was all a lie. Like that."

Sam nodded, "Like me with school."

"Or me with . . . Stuff . . ." Loki drew off and flopped back, letting himself bounce off the plush bottom of the multicolored bounce house. "Everyone does it at some point, disillusions themselves like that. But Dean sure has lousy timing."

"Yeah," Sam agreed as he turned to take a look at his brother and his brother's former fling. "He really does.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

"Sammy's a lucky, he's a star, and he cried cried cried with a lonely he-hear-heart-"

"Loki."

"You're so lucky-"

"Loki, those are not the lyrics."

"You're a star-"

"Loki, I will murder you in your sleep."

The Trickster wiggled his butt in Sam's direction as he danced around the motel room. "I don't sleep," he sang.

"I've seen you sleep, you twat," Sam growled as he turned the page of his book. Almost instantly he dropped said book with a startled hiss, waving his newly paper cut sliced open hand in the air.

Loki paused mid-dance, staring at the blood dripping onto the ugly carpet with wide eyes, "Uh, I know your luck is bad right now but you can't really die from a paper cut, can you?"

"I wouldn't doubt it," Sam said warily before he started to make his way to the bathroom to wash said cut out, Loki hovering around him like a worried mother hen. "And you're not helping very much, you know," he added with a glare in the Trickster's direction. "You're supposed to be playing guard dog and making sure I don't get hurt while Dean tries to get the rabbits foot back."

"Woof?" Loki said helpfully.

"I'm so glad you're here," Sam snorted sarcastically.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

Loki had to confess he was relatively surprised the day Sam jumped between him and Dean, completely in the Trickster's defense rather than his brother's.

"It's not him, Dean," Sam said darkly. "He promised, remember?"

"Promises-schmomises," Dean huffed as he tried in vain to glare at Loki around Sam's rigid frame. "It's a bunch of cases all clumped together that look like children's fairytales, what else am I supposed to think?"

"I do like fairytales," Loki admitted, stuffing a handful of jellybeans into his mouth.

Sam twisted where he stood in order to send a heated glare in his direction, "Will you _shut up_? You're not helping even a little bit, you know."

"I could help you do many things, Sammy," Loki purred, raking his gaze down Sam's body and back up again.

Dean sputtered, "W-well I'm out. I'm sure there is research that can be done. Somewhere. On something. Anywhere but here." He did a one-eighty on his heels and grabbed his coat, heading out the door of the motel without a backwards glance.

Sam rolled his eyes before glowering down at the Trickster, "While that was effective, I think you shall find I will be inhabiting the room on the farthest side possible from you for the rest of the night."

Loki smirked and gestured down at himself, "You wish you could have some of this. Bitches just love my body."

The younger Winchester frowned, "Good thing I'm not a bitch then."

"The look on your face disagrees," Loki pointed out with a laugh.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

Loki tried to tell himself a thousand times that he was not _actually_ attracted to Sam Winchester. Nope, not at all. He was not attracted to the way he smiled sometimes, tiny smiles with actual meaning meant for only his brother or the Trickster. He was not attracted to the hour Sam took to get ready in the mornings, or the way he insisted on buying good shampoo and conditioner instead of using the grungy motel provided kind like Dean. He was not attracted to Sam's carefree, as rare as his real smiles, laugh, or his undeniably bitable ass. Nope, not at all.

Then again even as a Trickster, he wasn't very good at tricking himself.

Especially not when he had to admit he was only tagging along on the various adventures of the Winchesters _because_ of Sam. When he'd picked up traces of the boys at the campus he was working at, of course he'd be curious. He knew full well what they would become, the things they would soon do, and the paths they would walk. He knew them like the back of his hand, truth be told.

He'd be a bit of a crap Angel of Prophecy if he didn't really.

But while every rational part of him screamed at him to let them go, to just back off and sink into the shadows again, unnoticed and hidden as he had been for hundreds of years, irrational thought got the better of him in the end.

Maybe it was the way Sam was so terrible at lying when he'd darted down to rifle trough the Trickster's locker. Or maybe it was the way Sam was the quickest to pick up on each of his tricks and traps he laid out for them. And maybe it was the way Sam smiled when he'd questioned the then seemingly innocent janitor, an open smile that had only grown when Loki had dipped his head in embarrassment.

Either way the Trickster was _not_ going to let some dodgy old lady make a move on Sam on his watch, whether he admitted to liking Sam or not. No way, no how. He swooped in as soon as Dean had run upstairs with Bela, tapping the woman's shoulder as politely as he could as he tried to hide his utter annoyance. "May I cut in?" he asked smoothly, raising an eye to Sam who's face shifted between grateful when the lady removed her knobby hand from his butt to mortified when he realized that Loki was, indeed, asking to dance.

"Er-" Sam started.

"Of course," the woman smiled, a look that made Loki shudder. If he wasn't careful she'd be thinking of a threesome next rather than just barely subtle plots of luring Sam into her bed.

"Come on, Sammy, dance with me," Loki cooed.

Sam glanced around at the other people gathered in the room, "Isn't this place-"

"A bit hoity-toity for such fruity affairs?" Gabriel finished helpfully. "Why yes, yes it is. Now dance or I will stomp on your toes."

So dance they did.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

"Sam!"

Sam halted where he stood, frozen as he watched Gordon sink his teeth into Loki's arm as the Trickster appeared from literally nowhere, stepping between the Hunter-turned vampire and the younger Winchester without a second thought.

Blood trickled down Loki's arm and he winced. "Yeah . . . That might leave a mark," he said regretfully before he snapped with his free hand and watching impassively as Gordon's head slid off his neck and thudded to the floor as if it had been cut by the most skilled executioner, yet not a weapon lay in sight.

Loki wobbled where he stood for a moment before Sam caught him under the arms, blinking down at the Trickster in startled silence. "A-are you okay?" he asked finally, his own hands shaking as Loki's blood trickled onto them from the gaping fang holes in his arm.

The Trickster nodded dazedly, "Never been bitten by a vampire before," he mumbled, "Wonder what that does to something like me? It's not on the neck . . ." He glanced at Sam, "Does that matter?"

"I don't know," Sam said honestly. "We should get you back to the motel as fast as possible though. Can you . . ."

For a moment Loki just stared blankly at him before he seemed to get a hint and snapped his fingers, landing them smack dab in the middle of the motel room where Dean had been pacing, almost crashing into him.

"Wha-" Dean started, scrambling out of the way as Loki suddenly went boneless in Sam's arms, teetering towards the floor.

"Just shut up and help me!" Sam snapped. Dean shifted and grabbed the Trickster's feet and they hauled him up onto one of the beds. "Gordon bit his arm," Sam stared, fumbling for a first aide kit in his duffle, "I don't know what that means, but it's having some sort of effect on him."

"Clearly," Dean muttered as he moved to go get some water from the bathroom sink. "Let's just hope he doesn't turn into a vamp himself."

"He won't," Sam hissed. "I won't let him."

Dean just shrugged and wandered towards the door, "Want some food? I mean, I could eat after that whole ordeal so . . ."

"Go," Sam said with a weak chuckle, "I can handle him."

"I bet," Loki murmured lazily from where he was sprawled on the mattress. Sam just rolled his eyes.

An hour or so later when the Trickster finally stopped muttering obscene things in that oddly drunken tone and started groaning about how much his arm hurt, Sam decided he probably wasn't in any serious danger at all.

"It shouldn't hurt," Loki whined plaintively from the bed. "I'm better than a low life vampire, it's stupid bite shouldn't have even scratched me. The fucker." He groaned again, flexing his fingers tentatively and making a pained noise as he did so.

"Well it did," Sam said mater-of-factly, "So get over it and stop being annoying."

"It _hurts_."

"It wouldn't if you had just let me handle things on my own."

Loki snorted, "Yeah, great idea. Well maybe if you had listened when I had said 'this is clearly a trap' when Gordon called we wouldn't be here at all, thank you very much."

"I couldn't have just let him kill an innocent girl!" Sam snapped.

"You mean innocent vampire?" Loki huffed. "A trap is a trap, Sam. And I thought you were the smart one. Why is it then that Dean stayed behind like I told him to while you rushed pell-mell into danger like an _idiot_."

"I could have done it on my own!" Sam snarled, getting up from his chair to lean over the prone Trickster, "Why can't you and Dean _ever_ just trust me to do anything on my own?"

Loki stilled, "You wanted me to stand aside while you took a band of barbed wire and twisted it around his neck? You wanted me to watch while you pulled on it as it sliced through him bit by bit? I thought I was supposed to be stopping you from becoming something you're not, Sam," His golden eyes narrowed, "not helping you become it."

Sam inhaled, "I would never have-"

"Don't lie to me, Sam," Loki whispered. He flexed his fingers again, frowning slightly, "I saw what you were planning in your head, I'm not stupid."

Sam looked away.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

It was on Christmas morning that Sam first noticed them. Loki's arm had healed within a few hours on the day they'd disposed of Gordon, but during said healing he'd taken a liking to wearing Sam's t-shirts as pajamas, though he kept insisting he didn't need to sleep. Sam didn't mind, much, but it was because of said t-shirts that looked more like the sort slutty teenage girls wore as dresses on the Trickster that he noticed it.

"You have a tattoo," Sam said absently, peering over his mug of coffee at the pagan god from where he sat at the little motel table.

Dean promptly choked on his eggs.

Loki glanced up from where he was watching TV perched on the edge of Sam's bed, "Wha?"

"On your back," Sam gestured, "I can see the tops of it sticking out from under my shirt.

Pursing his lips Loki said wryly, "If you want to see it you only have to ask, honey-bunches."

"Leaving," Dean coughed, pushing his half eaten breakfast away as he made a mad dash for the door. He seemed to be doing a lot of that these days, Sam noted with a frown. Not to mention that the one day they decided to have a decent breakfast in the motel he'd barely even touched it. Typical.

Sam sighed and rolled his eyes before turning his full attention to the Trickster once more, "Well?"

He didn't expect Loki to swallow, or suddenly look as nervous as he did, "It's nothing, really. Just a little thing, er, nothing much."

"Really?" Sam said, not deterred in the slightest. He stood and paced over to the other, reaching for the hem of the t-shirt without another word, waiting as Loki lifted his arms obligingly before sliding the shirt up and over the Trickster's head. He sucked in a breath, holding it in his surprise for a moment before he let it out in one big whoosh. "This is what you call little?"

Loki shivered as Sam's hand landed on his spine, tracing the lines of ink one at a time, "I guess," he whispered.

Sam let his fingers dance over the ink, mapping out each and every marked out feather from one to the other all the way down the Trickster's back. "Wings," he said faintly, awed.

"Yeah," Loki said softly. "I-it doesn't mean anything, really. I just . . . I needed something to remind myself."

"Of what?"

Loki stiffened under his hand, "Of my own mistakes," he ground out. "Of the things I gave up a long, long time ago. No matter what I do in the here and now, no matter what I will come to do, I can't forget that. Ever."

Sam let his fingers still at the base of the inked wings stretching across skin, his eyebrows furrowing together. "Wh-"

There was a loud and amazingly obnoxious knock on the door at that moment, and Dean's voice rang out. "Everything is closed on Christmas!" he exclaimed through the wood, as if it was somehow their fault. "So unless you want a gun pointed at your head everything in that room had better be completely heterosexual in five seconds when I open this door."

"Not all of us can be as in denial as you, Dean-O," Loki yelled back. He pulled the shirt back on and glanced over his shoulder at Sam, "Oh, and Sam?" He waited as Sam's attention snapped back to him, "Some questions are better left unanswered."

Sam nodded. He didn't inquire about the tattoo again, though he couldn't help but let his eyes linger on Loki's back every now and then, wondering how long the wings had been there.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

It was when they were up against a handful of witches and one very pissed off, very old demon, that Loki finally laid eyes on Ruby. He'd heard Sam say one or two things about her before, in passing, and he'd heard Dean mutter to himself about her, but she had always conveniently shown up when he wasn't around.

But when she strode in to get between them and the demon, she was all talk, all sass, and all demon herself. It made Loki's blood boil in anger just to look at her. She fled the scene pretty quick after she gave them a hand, which Loki could have done himself, thank you very much. The second she was gone the Trickster was at Sam's throat like he never had anywhere better to be, one hand pinning the Hunter to the floor and the other against the floor itself, keeping Sam locked there as easy as breathing. For a moment Dean looked as if to stop him, but Loki just flicked his gaze to him for a heartbeat and Dean took two steps back.

"When were you going to tell me you were cavorting about with a _demon_," he spat icily, utter fury coursing through him with such intensity he had to practically chain it inside himself for fear of something going off like a bomb if he didn't. He hadn't been that angry in a long, _long_ time. "I would think that you of all people would know better, Sam." He narrowed his eyes and whipped them around to Dean, "You knew she was a demon too, didn't you." Dean nodded slowly, and Loki didn't miss the way his hand twitched towards his gun, just waiting for Loki to actually hurt Sam in any way. The pagan god snorted. "Great, lovely, fan-fucking-tastic. And why is it then that no one seemed to think it'd be a good idea to tell me you were on good terms with a _demon_?"

Sam took a moment to shift uneasily beneath him and Loki moved his gaze back down to the Hunter, golden eyes absolutely frigid. "She . . ." Sam began hesitantly, swallowing when he saw the look in Loki's eyes, "She said she could save Dean."

At this Loki's eyes snapped up in obvious surprise, flickering between Dean and Sam in turn. "I highly doubt that," he said after a pause. "What would a lowly demon like her know about things like that? Impossible. If _I_ can't break the deal, a demon certainly can't."

"He's got a point, Sam," Dean said with a jerk of his head.

"That doesn't mean she's lying!" Sam exclaimed, trying in vain to get the Trickster off of him, but Loki was a lot stronger than he looked. "What if she really does know a way? We're running out of options, Dean!"

Loki let out a breath and shook his head, "Sam, we've talked about this."

"There are no options," Dean nodded. "If there are, we'll find them by ourselves."

"We don't need a demon's help," Loki agreed, "Not now, not ever. Going down that road will not lead to anything you'll like."

Sam bit his lip, "She just saved our lives."

"I'm perfectly capable of saving your asses too!" Loki snarled, "And I'm _not_ some hellspawn who used to practice witchcraft in her human days!" He steadied himself with the hand he had against the floor, "Things that crawl out of Hell, Sam, are never good no matter what pretty guise they might use. Even without sealing a deal with a kiss, there's always a catch. Always." He released the Hunter and sat back, allowing him to scramble to his feet, "And if you know what's good for you, you'll ignore her from now on."

"Or kill her," Dean supplied.

"Yes, I like that option," Loki smirked. Sam just nodded grimly, not meeting either of their eyes.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

However much he may have hated Ruby as soon as he set eyes on her, Loki did did like Bela Talbot. He liked Bela quite a lot, actually. She had a style that reminded him very much of his own, and while her motives were a bit sketchy he could see she did give at least a little bit of a damn about the Winchesters, one way or another.

He didn't like her invading Sam's dreams, however. He didn't like that even one little itty bitty bit. Not at all.

"Again?" he asked when Sam jerked awake, peering at the Trickster through bleary, sleep filled eyes. "Either fuck it or duck it, Sam. Your lusting is getting on my nerves."

Sam's face twisted in mortification, "Yeah . . . No thanks."

Loki shrugged and leaned forward in his chair, his chin in his hands. And no, he was not pouting. He was just . . . Okay, he might have been pouting. Just a bit. "Suit yourself," he muttered.

Sam stood and smacked the top of the Trickster's head as he passed, "Quit acting like a jealous girlfriend."

Frowning, Loki just glared at him in response. Sam froze with one hand in the mini-fridge.

"Uh, you're not _actually_ jealous are you?"

"No," Loki said venomously. "Go back to your stupid sex dreams. I should have you arrested for fraternizing with the enemy." He turned away and went back to pouting, deciding he'd been doing a fine job of it before.

Sam's mouth twitched, "Okay, one - I know for a fact that you _like_ Bela. You were all buddy-buddy with her when we were on that cursed ship hunt awhile back. And two - quit moping around about it or Dean will make fun of you when he gets back."

"I can mope if I want."

The Hunter rolled his eyes as he grabbed a beer and moved to sit opposite Loki at the table. "Fine, be that way. See if I buy you M&Ms ever again."

"I can magic up my own!"

"And do they taste as good as the real thing, freshly bought because I am so generous and kind?"

Loki glowered at him from across the table, "I'm going to mope about if I want to mope about, Winchester, and you can't stop me."

Sam threw his hands up in the air, officially giving up.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

Loki liked Bela, he liked her a lot. But it was because of Bela that they ran out of options. In the end, because she stole The Colt, he had no choice to act.

It made him almost physically sick to do it.

He started by stirring up a little trouble in a small town, just enough that Sam and Dean would notice, too little to have them suspect him right off the bat. He did it so easily while he was stomping about America trying to find Bela, or better yet find whoever Bela had handed The Colt off to. Just a simple thing, dropping an unsuspecting ass into a wormhole he didn't believe in. He could've been more creative, he supposed, but at the time he didn't give two flying fucks. Because he knew that without The Colt they were royally screwed at breaking Dean's deal. And without The Colt, Sam would be desperate enough to go to Ruby again.

That was the last thing Loki wanted.

It was so, so easy. Sam didn't suspect him in the slightest as he killed Dean over and over, acting just as shocked and heartbroken as Sam did each and every time. And each and every time he nearly broke doing it. He had _promised_, though. He had made a promise to Sam to stop him from turning into something he wasn't, and he'd be damned if he was going to sit by and watch Ruby sink her dirty demon claws into Sam. Into _his_ Sam. Not by a long shot. So he did what he did best.

He laid out a trap, and then he set up his tricks. One by one by one.

It was over a hundred Tuesdays later when Sam's gaze shifted to his for the first time, suspicious. But Loki just smiled and laughed it away.

He had been hoping that by seeing Dean die over and over that Sam would become numb to it, somehow. That maybe when Dean actually died it wouldn't hurt as bad.

He was wrong.

On Tuesday one hundred and ninety, Sam cornered him, slamming him into a chain-link fence with a stake to his throat. Really, Winchesters and their habits of slamming people into walls. It was UST if he ever saw it, if Loki said so himself.

"What can I do for you, Sammy?" he asked nonchalantly, not phased in the slightest by the stake.

"I know it's you doing this," Sam hissed. "Why?"

"I'm just keeping a promise," Loki smiled.

The stake pressed against his throat just a bit harder, "How does this have anything to do with that promise?" Sam's voice wavered around the words, broken. "How is this supposed to help me, Loki? I thought we were friends!"

"Which is why I'm doing this you idiot," Loki said calmly. "Because you asked me to."

"Then I un-ask you," Sam snapped. Loki decided not to comment about the grammar of that statement. "So let us go. No more of your games, Loki."

A small, sad smile crept across the Trickster's features, "Whatever you wish." And he snapped.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

He watched, hidden, as Sam packed up his bag, ignoring Dean's questions as to where the Trickster had popped off to. He watched as Dean walked out and stepped right into the plot of his final trick, and he watched as Sam clutched at his brother's body, waiting for the snap and the revert back to Tuesday that would not come.

And he watched Sam lose himself as he began his death hunt for the Trickster. He watched the smiles fade to cold and unforgiving looks, the laughter disappear inside heartless, false chuckles. That hadn't been what he wanted. That had _never _been what he wanted.

So he waited for Sam to find him, dropping fake hints throughout the fake world he'd created that lead Sam right to him until the stake was pressed against his back, cruel and hard without hesitation.

"Hello, Sam," he said sweetly. The smile he wore was forced, but he'd be damned if he let Sam see that.

"I should kill you where you stand," Sam threatened.

"But you won't. If you do you're only going to prove to me what a _monster_ you've become, Sammy."

Sam flinched, "Don't you dare! You're the one who's done this to me, Loki! You _killed_ Dean!"

Loki turned and knocked the stake away in one fluid movement. He smirked at Sam's shocked expression. "I made you like this?" he echoed. "I think not. _You_ made you like this, kiddo. Not me, and not anyone else. You and Dean exist in an eternal cycle of sacrifice and vengeance, and if you don't stop _this_ is what you're going to become!"

"If it gets Dean back what does that matter?" Sam's voice hitched. "I just want him back, Loki. Please . . ."

"Sam, I'm only doing as you asked me to. I'm trying to stop you. Once Dean dies for real you will turn into something a thousand times worse than what you are right now." He narrowed his eyes, "I'm fulfilling my promise, Sam. I'm stopping you the only way I know how, by _teaching _you."

"Just bring him back . . ."

"Are you even listening to me?" Loki grabbed him by his shirt collar, "If you don't learn from this experience, Sam Winchester, you are going to do something you will _never_ be able to forgive yourself for. And you can _not_ expect me to hang around to pick up your messes forever!"

"Then don't!" Sam snapped, "I don't need you to help me! Not if this is the way you help!" He shuddered as Loki's molten gold eyes raked over him.

"Fine," Loki whispered, "But don't expect me to come back, Sam. Even if you cry and beg for me. I _won_'t be here. And I won't listen." He snapped and watched one last time as Sam woke up to one final Wednesday, free of the illusion for the first time in over a year's worth of days.

"Where'd Loki go?" Dean asked when Sam finally released him from his crazy random bear-hug.

Sam stiffened, "He's . . . He left. I told him to go."

Dean groaned and ran a hand through his hair, "Sam . . . Who's going to look after you when I'm gone?"

"You're not going to _be_ gone," Sam grumbled, "And I can look after myself, thanks."

Dean just sighed.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

Loki watched, hidden, as the hellhounds ripped into Dean, clawing at him and shredding both flesh and soul as if it were no more than paper. He watched Sam scream and plead for Lilith to stop, pinned to the wall by her very gaze alone.

But he did not watch when Lilith turned to Sam with every intention of blasting him to Hell right after his brother. He stepped in between them.

"Always getting into trouble, aren't you Sammy," he said lightly as he waved a hand towards Lilith, stopping her in her tracks.

The demon gaped at him, "You!"

"Me!" Loki laughed. "And I'm afraid you've been touching something that doesn't belong to you," he flicked his gaze to Sam. "So if you don't want to be turned into Demon-A-La-Mode, I'd suggest you skedaddle."

He looked on impassively as Lilith tipped her head back, the black smoke streaming from her mouth, before he snapped and heard Sam fall to the ground behind him. The Hunter barely cast him a glance as he scrambled to his feet and rushed to Dean's side. "Dean?" he grabbed at his brother with shaking hands, "Dean? Come on, Dean."

Loki glanced at them, taking in the sight of the tears welling in Sam's eyes, "He's gone, kiddo."

Sam whirled on him, still clutching Dean's tattered body to him, "Then bring him back! I know you can!"

"What, like at the Mystery Spot?" Loki snorted. "That was never anything more than an illusion, he was never really dead then, Sam."

"But I _know_ you have to power to!" Sam pleaded, the tears opening spilling down his cheeks now. "Please, Loki!"

"Power or not, I said I wouldn't answer your useless begging when the time came, Sam," the Trickster sneered. "You failed to understand the _one_ lesson you had asked me to teach you. Why should I help you now?"

Sam's eyes narrowed, "What good are wings when you never use them, then?"

Loki's golden eyes snapped to him, holding his gaze, "You know _nothing_ about what wings are good for, Sam. _Nothing_. Because there is nothing left for them to be of use for when it only causes bloodshed and pain!"

"You can use them for this!" Sam's voice broke and he pressed his forehead into the collar of Dean's blood soaked shirt. "Please . . ."

"No."

"I believed in you!" Sam screamed at him, "I believed in _you_, and you can't even-"

"And I believed in you," Loki retorted, cutting the Hunter off. "I believed that you could maybe, just _maybe_, live up to what you wanted to be rather than what you were made to be. You asked me to help you, and I did. But you _wouldn't listen_, Sam! And now you're going to become exactlywhat you were meant to all along."

"Please . . ."

"You are going to let vengeance and hatred get the better of you, you'll let them consume you. And I will _not_ stick around to watch you burn, Sam."

Sam shook his head, "I won't . . . Please . . ."

Loki looked down at him without remorse, stepping around him on his way to the door, "I cared, you know? I cared enough to try." He laughed and shook his head, "But what use is trying when you get nothing in return?" The Trickster glanced at Sam, waiting for the Hunter to look up and meet his eyes, "Even if I wanted to, it is not _my_ job to reach into Hell and pluck Dean from the fire, Sam. And I won't let it be my job to help you become what you will either."

"Loki . . ."

"I'm not going to stand around and watch your hatred eat away at you until you become a monster, Sam." Loki snapped his fingers and watched as Sam's gaze turn from helpless to shocked as the Trickster vanished from the room for the last time.

RANDOM AUTHOR RAMBLE

Long fic why are you so long! D:

Anywho, next time in the final part that will, god forbid, probably be even longer than this one, Castiel shows up, Sam goes nutcase as per usual in season 4 events, and Loki reveals himself to be who he really is. (NOT THAT YOU ALL DON'T KNOOOOWWW ALREADY.)

Bah, seriously, fic, why the fuck are you so ridiculously long? WTF. *le smacks fic*


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